Assassins
by SLynn
Summary: It’s time to undo the mistakes of the past. Set three months after V2 "Powerless".
1. The Homecoming Queen

**Assassins by SLynn  
****Summary:** It's time to undo the mistakes of the past.  
**Spoilers:** V2/Set Three Months After 'Powerless'  
**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Notes: **I started this a long time ago and thought, with the new season beginning, now was the time to get it out there... you know, before canon comes along and ruins my thought process. My goal is a chapter a week, but for right now, a two-chapter start. I hope you enjoy it!  
**  
Chapter 1: The Homecoming Queen**

"This is a very bad idea."

"It was your idea."

"I know," Matt said, shaking his head with a sigh. "I know. I just didn't think you'd actually agree to it."

"She's not safe here," Peter said, looking out the passenger's window of their rental car.

"Bennet's not going to let anything happen to her," Matt reasoned. "You know that."

"He has no right to keep her this way," Peter said, finally facing him.

"She's seventeen. He's her father…"

"No, he's not," Peter said, evidently tired of this argument. "Nathan is. Nathan didn't even know she was alive until last year. They kidnapped her away from her real family. Nathan has every right to see her and they're…"

"Okay, okay," Matt said, quickly interrupting him. "I know. You're right, I know. It's just the last time I showed up at this family's doorstep…"

"Nothing bad is going to happen," Peter said, opening the door and ready to get it over with. Glancing up in time to see the curtain flutter shut from an upstairs bedroom.

'_They know we're here,'_ he thought back as Matt exited the vehicle.

"We've been sitting across the street for half an hour," Matt returned, not bothering to think it at him as they'd previously agreed to do. "Of course they know we're here."

Peter didn't return an answer, only knocked loudly on the door.

"Oh, dear God," Sandra Bennet exclaimed softly as she looked right past Peter to Matt who, in return, smiled sheepishly.

"What are you doing here?" Noah Bennet said harshly, joining his wife at the door.

"You know why we're here," Peter answered.

"You are not taking my daughter across the country to go live with a man who we don't even know."

"She's not your daughter," Peter said evenly.

"The hell she isn't," Sandra snapped. "I don't care that he's her birth father. Where's he been all this time? Where's her mother been? They gave her up for adoption. We raised her."

Matt shifted, looking at Bennet now and shaking his head.

"How about those adoption papers?" Peter asked, ignoring Sandra and focusing on Bennet instead, having heard the silent exchange.

"What?" Sandra asked. "You need proof? Is that… We have the papers. We…"

"Sandra," Bennet finally said, cutting her off. "Let me handle this."

For a moment it appeared as if she was going to fight him, but instead she only threw one last contemptuous glance at the two intruders before retreating back into the house.

"I'm not letting her go with you," Bennet said in a low voice. "She's safer here, out of the way. I can protect her better…"

"No you can't," Peter returned. "You're only getting her more involved. We know, alright. We know about your little deal with Primatech. Your plans to make her safe."

'_I know it was you,'_ Matt added, startling Bennet by being inside his head.

For a minute he just stood there, uncertain what to do or say next. Ultimately he stood aside, ushering the two men into him home.

"Legally, you have no right…"

"If you want to resort to legalities…" Peter began, but Sandra was back on her feet crossing the room to him.

"Go ahead and try it."

"Sandra," Bennet said again, his face turning red as he spoke. "No one wants that. I'm sure there's something we can work out. That some arrangement can be made, but…"

"She doesn't want to go," Sandra said adamantly.

"No one is going to force Claire to go anywhere she doesn't want to go," Matt said, not wanting to join the argument, but feeling it was necessary to say something. He seemed to be the only one not emotionally invested.

"Well then," Sandra said, "you can leave because she doesn't want to go with you. She doesn't want to leave her family…"

"We're her family, too," Peter said, becoming angrier.

"I knew this was a bad idea," Matt muttered, pulling on Peter's shoulder.

"Where have you been, if that's true? Where's your brother if this is so important to him? If Claire is so important…"

"He couldn't come; he's still recuperating," Peter answered, his voice still terse. "And you know that. He's talked to you, to both of you, enough times…"

"I don't care what he says," Sandra said, coming close to tears now. "Claire is my daughter and…"

"Mom," Claire called out, standing and staring at them from bottom of the staircase. "I want to go."

For a long moment everyone was silent.

"You don't mean that," Sandra said, already sounding defeated.

"Claire," Bennet said, his voice almost a plea.

"I do," Claire returned. "I do mean it. Mom, it's not… I love you but it's not safe for you if I'm still here."

"You're safer with us…"

"I'm not," she interrupted. "I'm really not. Not the way…" Claire trailed off, finally looking at her father's face. "I don't want that kind of protection."

"What about school? What about college? Claire," Sandra tried, knowing it was in vain, "are you just going to walk out…"

"No," Claire said, tears in her eyes now. "Mom, it's not…"

"She can come back whenever she wants to," Peter said, finally softening at the display. "Or you can come see her. No one is going to keep her from you. Really. That's not… That's not what this is about."

"Then what? What is it then?"

"Someone tried to kill my brother," Peter answered. "The wrong people already know that Claire is his daughter. She needs to be protected. She needs better protection than you can give her."

"Who exactly is going to provide this better protection?" Bennet asked.

"I am," Peter said evenly.

No one spoke; the words, the determination behind his voice was all that was really needed. They knew he was serious and that he wouldn't back down. Not from them; not from anyone.

"We'll give you a minute," Matt said, reaching out and tugging on Peter's elbow as he did so.

Reluctantly Peter followed, but refused to get back into the car with Matt. He just stood there, leaning against the door, watching the house. Finally, after several long minutes, Claire appeared, making her way across the street to them with her head down, holding tightly to her bags.

Peter took her luggage and put it into the trunk as Claire slid into the back seat.

"Claire," Peter started to say, catching her eye in the rearview mirror as he sat back in the passenger's seat.

"Let's just go," she said, looking away from him and out the window.

The ride to the airport was silent except for the radio. Matt insisted it be played, if only to drown out the thoughts of the other two passengers. Once they arrived though, Claire seemed to have worked herself into better spirits. She began peppering Peter with questions about New York, her new school, and exactly what was happening to them all.

Peter wouldn't tell her much about the latter, not wanting to discuss it so out in the open, but was happy to supply her with any details she needed about anything else.

Matt mostly kept out of their way and out of the conversation. Claire had nothing to say to him, and he could hardly blame her. It was confounding how connected they all were.

It wasn't until they'd boarded the plane, as Claire took her seat next to Peter, that she even mentioned Nathan.

"How is he really?"

"Better," Peter answered, the tone of his voice giving away the lie.

"I wanted to come sooner," Claire continued. "I really did, it's just…"

"You don't have to explain it," Peter interrupted. "I understand."

"We talked," she said, almost sighing. "After you'd… when you were gone, we talked. Not a lot but…"

Peter took her hand and squeezed it, smiling at her reassuringly.

"I'm glad you're back," Claire said, smiling now as well.

"I'm glad you're coming with us."

The flight was long and uneventful. Once they landed, they picked up their luggage and walked over to the long line of people queued up for taxis.

"Peter," Matt said, shaking his hand. "I'll see you later."

"Thanks for doing this," Peter returned with a nod. "I mean it; you didn't have to come with me. I really appreciate it."

Matt, unused to thanks, just shrugged it off before turning to Claire and then back again to Peter. "Just, be careful."

Peter gave a brief laugh, as if to say 'that's not possible' and before actually turning to go with a simple, "Bye."

Claire gave Matt one last glance, still reserving judgment, but obviously more inclined to like him than before; willing, at least, to be partially guided by Peter's opinion of him.

"We're not getting a cab?" Claire asked, following Peter as he walked towards the terminal's exit.

"No," Peter said, his eyes darting from side-to-side. "Nathan hates cabs."

"He's here?" Claire asked; her attention caught as she too began to scan the crowd.

"No," Peter answered quickly. "But since he hates them, he thinks everyone else does. That's kind of how he is. See," he said, stopping and pointing through the crowd, "he sent the car."

Peter said a few words to the driver, who laughed before opening the door for them and taking Claire's luggage.

The ride was quiet; no radio this time to break through the silence. Claire spent most of it looking out the window and watching the people, the buildings, and the expanse of it all. She couldn't relax. Her nerves felt raw. It was all too new.

Peter, for his part, simply dropped back his head against the seat and slept; perfectly at ease. It was all familiar to him; a small comfort to be home. It was the first time he'd felt relaxed since the start of the trip.

Finally, after what seemed like a longer time than it actually was, the car stopped and as it did Peter's eyes popped open.

"Is this…" Claire began to ask, having never been there before; her last trip she'd only been inside and seen Angela Petrelli's home.

"Yeah," Peter said, getting out of the car now and taking the luggage from the driver. "This is it."

Claire stepped out of the car. Much like her grandmother's residence, the building looked less like a home and much more like a museum. She imagined it was the same inside. And, for the first time, was beginning to regret her decision as it dawned on her that she really did not know these people.

Peter, sensing much of her turmoil, just turned to her and smiled.

"It's going to be fine," he said, patting her on the back as they walked to the door.

Claire smiled back, tentatively, but with the dawning realization that she trusted him. She may not know Peter, or Nathan, very well at all, but she trusted them both.

"Welcome home, Claire."


	2. The Devil You Know

**Assassins by SLynn  
****Summary:** It's time to undo the mistakes of the past.  
**Spoilers:** V2/Set Three Months After 'Powerless'  
**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Notes:** Thank you, beta Tripp3235!

**Chapter 2: The Devil You Know**

Matt turned the key of his apartment door, not at all surprised by the quiet that greeted him.

"How did it go?" Mohinder asked, not even looking up from his papers from where he sat at the kitchen table.

"Not bad," Matt answered. "How's Molly?"

"Sleeping," the other man returned, finally setting down his pen. "She wanted to wait up for you."

"It's way too late," Matt said, stifling a yawn and suddenly feeling jet-lagged. "She's got school tomorrow."

"That's what I told her."

"Are you getting anywhere with that?" Matt asked, taking the chair opposite his.

"No," Mohinder sighed. "Not really. Three more people called today and I don't know what to say. I think it was easier when I was looking for them. Now that they're looking for me… Part of me just wants to tell them to hide. To runaway or forget about it."

"It doesn't work like that."

"I know," Mohinder said, shaking his head and looking off to the side.

For the past three months Mohinder had been inundated with calls and visits from people all over the world, who like Maya, had sought him out through his father's book. For the most part, Mohinder couldn't do anything more than listen to them. He'd ended his relationship with Primatech and had begun doing his own research again. It was slow work, funded largely by the Petrellis, but he was beginning to find answers; he was closer now than before. And, finally, it felt as if he was on the right side of things.

"So she came back with you?" Mohinder asked after a pause. "I can't imagine Bennet was very happy about it."

"No," Matt returned, with half a laugh. "He was not happy at all. But she wanted to come, what could he really do?"

"Well, nothing," Mohinder answered. "Not with Peter there."

"I don't think he's afraid of Peter," Matt said. "Not like he should be. I'm not even sure he knows… I think he's more afraid of Nathan. Of exposure. He made his peace with the company and now he may have to go down with them."

"We're really going to do this then?"

"There's nothing else we can do," Matt said as he stood up and stretched; exhausted from a very long couple of days. "It's all we've got."

"I thought Nathan was still working on an arrangement."

"Yeah," Matt scoffed. "He was. See what it got him?"

Mohinder rubbed his hands across his face.

"You can get out," Matt said, having heard his thoughts, as he got a drink from the refrigerator. "There's still time for you, Mohinder."

"No," Mohinder said, shaking his head. "There isn't. I'm… I'm in this as much as anyone. More even."

"But you don't like it."

"I don't like the idea of forcing hundreds of people to expose themselves because a few think it's the right thing to do."

"No one is going to force anyone to say anything," Matt countered. "No one is going to demand…"

"But that's what will happen," Mohinder interrupted. "I'm sorry, but history proves it. People will feel threatened. They'll demand protection and laws, which will lead to segregation and punishment. This is a very delicate situation."

"I know it is," Matt agreed. "I do. But, imagine for a minute you didn't know any of this…wouldn't you want to? I know people will be afraid, but doesn't the public deserve a chance to be informed? Right now Sylar is still out there and the general public has no idea what he is capable of. How many others…"

"Now you're starting to sound like the company."

"But that's just it," Matt said. "The company wants to be the only one with a say in this. They want to be the ones who decide who is dangerous and who isn't. They're collecting people with powers and using them to change the world. Indoctrinating them to their way of thinking; blackmailing and murdering without discretion."

"So we're back at the beginning," Mohinder said. "A select few deciding the fates of many."

"As long as that few isn't the company," Matt added, shaking his head.

"This could all be a huge mistake," Mohinder said. "I… I'm not like the rest of you. I have nothing to lose here. You know what could happen. I'm sure you've heard the phrase, 'Better the devil you know...' The consequences of exposure, of letting the world know your secrets..."

"I know," Matt said, sighing heavily. "But how else do we stop them? How else… Short of all out war, what else can we do?"

"I don't know," Mohinder admitted. "I really don't know what else can be done. I'm just… I'm reluctant. I've just got a very bad feeling about all of this."

"I know," Matt repeated, rubbing his hands across his eyes. "I do too. But we can't sit by and watch this… this mass manipulation continue."

"I agree, but…"

"But what?"

"But," Mohinder continued, trying hard to keep his voice low so as not to wake Molly, "there are so many things that can go wrong."

"So much has already gone wrong, I'm not sure we'd notice."

"I'm being serious."

"So am I," Matt contended. "This thing has destroyed my life. I feel like I'm fumbling around, half-blind, not knowing which way is up. Everything I thought I knew about right and wrong has been flipped on its head and most days I want nothing more than to run and hide, same as you want to tell all those people calling."

"So why not do it? Before it is too late."

"Because it was too late before I was even born," Matt said earnestly. "I can't… I can't walk away from this knowing… Me, Nathan, Peter, Hiro… we're part of this, even if we don't want to be."

Mohinder nodded, mumbling something that sounded vaguely like 'the sins of the father'.

"I can't walk away from this now," Matt said as he shut his eyes and slowly shook his head. "I'd rather take my chances with whatever the government might do, than with what I know the company will."

"Have we heard anything from them at all? Do we know what they'll do next?"

"No, not that I've heard," Matt admitted, "but I've been in California, so, who knows? Did Hiro call?"

"Not me," Mohinder answered. "Nathan, maybe, but not me or the lab. How long was he going back to Japan for?"

"I'm not sure," Matt returned. "He was going to try and find something more about his father. See if there was anything useful in his papers, but… I doubt he'll find anything. They don't work like that. They wouldn't leave anything to chance."

Mohinder nodded uneasily.

"How's your work coming?"

Mohinder smiled as uneasily as he'd nodded.

"The tests with Elle and Maya are going well," Mohinder said after he collected his thoughts. "Maya has really improved. She's getting very good at controlling her gift. Elle is… she's different. I'm not sure…"

"I don't trust her."

"Neither do I," Mohinder admitted. "Not completely, but she seems sincere. I do think her heart is in the right place."

"Yes, well, I'd feel better if she'd drop her guard," Matt said. "Just a little. All her thoughts are so ordered and precise it… it reminds me of Bennet. Whoever trained her did a damn good job."

"Her father trained her," Mohinder supplied, knowing Matt already knew that much for himself. "She's like the rest of you. She wants to make this right."

"You're right," he returned. "I know it; you're right. I just… it's like she's hiding something."

"Aren't we all?"

"Yes," Matt answered. "But… never mind. I'm being paranoid. I know. What else? How's Nathan? Any progress?"

"No," Mohinder said sadly. "None. Nothing I've tried has worked. He just keeps getting worse. At this rate, he doesn't have long."

Matt shut his eyes and shook his head slowly.

"Have you asked --"

"Yes," Matt interrupted, dropping his head into his hands without meeting his eyes. "I did. And I won't do it again. Nathan knows the situation and his answer is still no. He's still counting on you to figure this out on your own."

"But with her here," Mohinder said eagerly, only to be cut off again.

"If you'd like to ask him, go ahead," Matt said irritated now. "I've tried. Peter's tried. He won't do it. He doesn't want Claire to think that's the only reason she's here."

"Maybe someone should talk to Claire then. I'm sure if we asked for Nathan…"

"That's not a good idea," Matt interrupted, finally looking his way again. "It's really not."

"But…"

"Should I ask, or should you?" Matt cut in with a near hysterical laugh. "Maybe we can have Elle ask her? We're going to have a hard enough time convincing her that we're not trying to hurt her or use her without confronting her with all this."

"He's going to die if we don't do something."

"I know," Matt said, his voice losing its edge. "I do, but we can't interfere like that. Not you or me or anyone that's not… Peter will sort it out. He'll either get Nathan to see reason or he'll get Claire to help. Just… let's give it some time, okay? Peter will work it out."

"I'm not sure how much time Nathan has."

"It's gotten that bad?"

"Yes," Mohinder returned.

"Well, Peter will have to hurry," Matt said. "And we'll have to make sure he does."

"That still doesn't solve the problem," Mohinder said after a long pause. "That doesn't change what happened; that it could happen again."

"I know," Matt sighed, getting to his feet and ready to call it a night. "I do. And I'm working on it."

"Do you still think…" Mohinder began, trailing off as if the question was too awful to complete.

"Who else could it have been?" Matt returned, hearing the rest in his head as easily as if it had been spoken.


	3. The One You Don't

**Assassins by SLynn  
****Summary:** It's time to undo the mistakes of the past.  
**Spoilers:** V2/Set Three Months After 'Powerless'  
**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

**Notes:** This is already very, very different from V3. We'll see if that's a good thing or a bad one.

**Chapter 3: The One You Don't**

Wishing she'd paid more attention the night before when they'd arrived, Claire crept down the stairs from her room in search of the kitchen. After taking several wrong turns, and the dawning realization that she was going in circles, Claire sighed and plopped down into the nearest armchair in defeat.

"No, no," a woman's voice called out, causing Claire to nearly jump out of her skin. "No. No children are allowed in here. Even if they were, they are hardly allowed on the furniture. It just isn't done."

"Oh," Claire said, too surprised to be affronted, as she jumped to her feet. "I'm sorry. I didn't…"

"This is why I wanted to be here when you arrived," the woman sighed, shaking her head with an irritated expression. "How were you supposed to know the rules of the house if I am not here to explain them?"

Claire just continued to stare at her, unsure who she was and still uncertain why she was scolding her. The woman was probably in her early forties, very tall and thin, with a neat, if not plain, appearance coupled with sharp features which made her appear almost hawk-like.

"I'm Ms. Hannigan," she continued without advancing into the room. "I work for Mr. Petrelli."

"Like as a house keeper or…"

"I am the house manager," Ms. Hannigan immediately corrected, looking more put off than before. "Mrs. Petrelli hired me to oversee the upkeep of her home; that is what I do."

Claire nodded, feeling more and more out of place and out of her element.

"I have stayed on at Mr. Petrelli's behest," she went on, turning and motioning for Claire to follow, "but I assure you, the rules of the house have not changed. First, there are no children allowed in the formal sitting room."

"Where's…"

"We just left it, dear," she said with an exasperated sigh. "Second, children are not allowed to eat anywhere other than the designated dining spots. This means the kitchen, the dining room, and on rare occasions, the veranda. Here is the kitchen," she said, coming to an abrupt halt.

"Morning, Claire," Peter said, looking up from his cereal.

"Third," Ms. Hannigan continued as if he wasn't there, "you appear old enough to pick up after yourself, so you will not unnecessarily burden the staff. This includes me. No one in this household is paid to be your personal servant; no one in this household is paid by you, period. If a door is closed, you will knock. If a phone rings, you will not answer it. Only adults answer the phone in this household," she said, her eyes briefly flicking in Peter's direction. "There will be no disturbances of any kind before nine in the morning or after eight in the evening. If you are not certain you are being a disturbance, than I assure you, you are."

"Morning, Ms. Hannigan," Peter said as soon as she stopped for breath, barely suppressing a smile.

"Good morning," she returned before continuing on as if she'd never been interrupted. "You'll be starting classes on Monday. Bernard, whom you will call Mr. Morales, will pick you up promptly at eight-fifteen in front of the house and will be waiting in front of the academy to return you home at exactly three-thirty each afternoon. Do not keep him waiting. In addition, if you do have any problems, or find anything amiss, you will notify me personally. Mr. Petrelli is a busy man and does not need to be bothered with your petty concerns. Do you have any questions?"

"Um…"

"Excellent," she said, turning quickly on her heels and walking quickly from the room with a series of severe clacks. "Have a good day, Ms. Claire."

Claire stood there for a full minute before Peter finally burst out laughing.

"I'm sorry," he said, once he'd stopped. "I should have warned you about her."

"Was she joking?" Claire asked, taking a seat beside Peter at the breakfast bar.

"Oh, no. She was serious. Very serious," Peter assured her. "She's… um, how do I put this… she's crazy. This job is her life. This house is like her child."

"This isn't some kind of put on or…"

"Where did she find you?"

"I guess it was the sitting room…"

"You weren't sitting, were you?" Peter asked, faking shock.

"I really can't sit in the chairs?"

"Consider yourself lucky," Peter said with a laugh as he got up to clean his bowl. "Until last week she was making me eat over the sink."

"You're not serious," Claire said, shaking her head.

Peter shrugged before turning back to her and asking, "What do you want for breakfast?"

"Are you allowed to use the stove?"

"No," Peter returned. "That's why I had cereal."

Claire only stared at him.

"That was a joke," he told her, moving to the cabinets and fishing out several boxes of cereal. "And, she's not that bad once you get used to her."

"Okay," Claire said, obviously not believing it.

"She's not. She's just… well, crazy," Peter admitted, getting a bowl and spoon now for her as well. "But don't let her scare you. This is your house too. Go wherever you want."

"I guess," Claire said, picking up one of the boxes and giving it a disgusted look. "Do you really eat this?"

"It's good for you," Peter answered.

Claire just wrinkled up her nose at him.

"Fine," Peter said, putting the offending box away and digging further into the cabinet for another brand. "Better?"

"Much," Claire said, taking it and pouring herself a bowlful.

"Here," Peter said, handing her the milk. "Do you want juice? There's orange, apple, grape…"

"Orange juice is fine," Claire answered before he could continue down the list. "So, um, where's…"

She stopped, not sure if she should call him her dad or just Nathan. It was strange. She didn't want to offend, but it was all so new still.

"Nathan?" he supplied for her. "He's in his office. He should be out soon. I think he just had some early calls to make."

"Is he working again?" Claire asked and immediately regretted it, knowing how it must sound.

"Yeah," Peter answered, sounding suddenly tense. "Not full time but… yeah. He is. A few cases. Mostly pro bono work."

"What about you?"

"Me?" he repeated. "No. I'm not doing much of anything right now. I'm still kind of adjusting…"

Claire nodded and smiled tightly, hoping there was more. She wanted to know exactly what had happened, but couldn't bring herself to ask.

"So," she finally began, "are you staying here too? I thought you had your own place."

"I am," he said, relaxing some again. "And I do, but it's occupied right now. Which is fine with me, I like it here. Like I said, it's not so bad once you get past the overlord."

"Is that how you talk about me behind my back?"

Claire and Peter both turned in surprise, finding Nathan in the room with them. Peter laughed it off, protested that they were talking about Ms. Hannigan and not him, but Claire could barely manage a smile; Nathan looked so different. He seemed to have aged ten years since the last time she'd seen him. He was overcome with a ghastly pallor and had to have at least lost fifteen to twenty pounds. Claire had been prepared to see him not looking well, all things considered, but she hadn't been ready for this.

Nathan, momentarily averting his eyes as he cleared his throat, asked, "How was your flight?"

"Good," Claire said after a brief pause, trying not to stare. "It was good."

"And you're finding everything alright in the house?"

"Yes."

"Good," Nathan said, briefly dropping his head. "We're glad you could come."

"I'm happy to be here," Claire smiled nervously.

"Good," Nathan repeated, finally smiling some himself. "Has Peter shown you around?"

"Not yet," Peter answered. "We got in pretty late last night. I thought you might want to do that yourself."

Nathan momentarily fixed a look on Peter, slightly shaking his head.

"You're not busy, right?" Peter continued to prod.

"It's no big deal," Claire interjected. "I can find my own way around."

"No," Nathan said, finally turning back towards her. "I can give you a tour. I don't have anything on my schedule till this afternoon. Peter? Can I have a word with you?"

Peter smiled reassuringly at Claire before stepping out of earshot with Nathan for a quick, low conversation. Claire shifted in her seat and averted her eyes, but that couldn't stop her from knowing who they were discussing. It didn't take them long to hash out whatever it was, but Nathan still looked displeased.

"When you're ready," Nathan said, nodding towards her still full bowl of cereal, "I'll be waiting in my office." Peter cleared his throat, loudly, as Nathan turned to go. He stopped, turned back towards them both and smiled tersely. "It's just down the hall. Second on the left."

With another nod, this time to Peter, Nathan left and for several long minutes neither of them spoke.

"He is glad you're here," Peter said, having heard most of her internal monologue.

"Yeah," Claire agreed sarcastically. "He's thrilled."

"Claire," Peter sighed, "there's a lot… there's a lot going on here that I want to tell you but…"

"But what?"

Peter said nothing, only shrugged and Claire understood.

"He doesn't want you to."

"No," Peter said.

"Why not?" Claire asked immediately. "Don't I deserve to know? After all this…"

"He wants to protect you from this. As much as he can."

"Protect me," Claire repeated sarcastically. "Everyone wants to protect me. I can do that for myself. I just… I need to know. Same as you do; same as he does. This… this thing…"

"I know," Peter cut in quickly, trying to get her to lower her voice. "I do. Claire, I understand. Just, give him a chance. Please. Give him a chance and give him some time. Nathan is trying, really trying, to do the right thing. For you. For all of us. You need to trust him."

"Trust him? How can I trust him if he won't trust me?"

"Okay then," Peter said, shaking his head. "Trust me. I trust you, so… trust me."

Claire looked down for a moment before ultimately nodding her head and looking Peter in the eyes.

"I do trust you, Peter," she said, "but it's hard… I don't know him. Not really."

"He's not…" Peter returned, stammering momentarily. "He's not easy to know, Claire. I can't lie to you. I'm sorry you're not getting a perfect family here. I'm sorry you left… He really does want what's best for you. I do too. We're both… we're trying, Claire. That's all I can say. It's not going to happen over night."

"Alright," Claire said with a short nod, "but I don't want to be left in the dark. I want to know what's happening and I want to be involved. That's why I'm here, Peter. That's why I came."

"I know," Peter sighed. "I know, but…"

"No buts," Claire interrupted. "I'm going to be involved."


End file.
